The New Neighbors Are From Hartford!
by Horrorxxxgirl
Summary: Some new neighbors come to live in the house next to Ray Peterson. These new people are really strange: they are super sexual, their house has bears, and during the night you can hear growling noises from their basement. The only thing they know is: Ricky is dating who they suspect is their daughter. Dirty Shame crossover with 'Burbs. RickyxOC. Ricky is of age.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

In the midwest there's a cul-de-sac known as Mayfield Place, a nice place to live. But, like Hartford Road in Maryland, it's also very close minded. Ray Ray and his people moved into a little home next door to the Peterson, the most close minded of them all. The Bears took over the basement, turning it into a bondage dungeon while Bubbles the Dominatrix stood outside, with the cover of the night against her back, cloaking her, making Ray Ray's signature penis shrubbery.

It had seemed that all the noise from Ray Ray's place had stirred awake Ray Peterson. "Ray, where are you going?" purred his wife seductively from bed. That morning, the paper boy had hit her in the head. All day, instead of the typical headache, she was horny. "Come on back to bed."

Ray opened the door and Bubbles hid behind one of the penises. Another neighbor, Ricky Butler, snuck onto the lawn. He tapped Bubbles on her shoulder. She screamed and smacked Ricky upside the head with her shears, knocking him to the ground. He looked up at the dominatrix and rubbed his head.

Ricky had just had one of the most extreme orgasms in all his 18 years. As Ray stepped over his flowerbed, Ricky pounced on Bubbles, making out with her. The bears watched from the little window, giving barks and growls of approval. The first Mayfield Place neighbor turned to an open minded being. Ray Ray smiled upon his two newest members as they made out and groped on the lawn, behind the penis bush.

Ray stood on the edge of the lawn, looking for the source of the growls and the scream. He saw Ricky bend over behind the bush that looked like a penis. He began thrusting forward, his shaggy hair swinging in his face as he moaned. Ray shook his head and headed back inside.

Ricky fell to his hands and knees. "Your turn?" he asked, seductively to an unknown person to Ray. Ray heard muffled moans. What the heck was up with that meatball?

He glanced one last time at the house. He saw the outline of Ray Ray on the second story. "Join us..."

Did that figure just say something? He heard shrill cries come from Ricky from behind the bush. Walt's dog ran onto the lawn, after the seventh cry. Ah, Walt taught him to shit on other people's lawns. Great.

Ray's eyes caught a long black tail of a whip flick backwards, striking Queenie on the head before launching forward and hearing another shrill cry from Ricky. Ray went back to bed before he had to witness his eighteen year old neighbor receive a blow job.

Morning came pretty quickly and Ray was back outside. The neighbor's were more quiet than a mouse. A paper boy, who looked more like a mailman with a bunch of girly magazines in his basket almost hit him in the head with the paper, making Ray throw his coffee at him. He did the same when he rounded around Walt's house.

"Watch it, you miserable little-can't you see I'm holding an animal!?"

Queenie was in his arms. He sat him down as he shouted at the paper boy. Queenie made a beeline right for the Rumsfield lawn and straight to the little gnome holding an American Flag, marching in camo. Instead of taking his usual shit on the lawn, he began to hump the gnome. Ray watched for a few moments before Walt called for his dog.

The dog ran right back, leaving the gnome face down in the dirt. "Morning, Walter!" called out Ray.

"What's good about a morning with dildos in it?" snarled Walt, pointing at his rose bush. Dildos stuck out of the thorny bush.

Ricky came out onto his porch, his robe draped over him, his hair a mess but he remembered his sunglasses. Bubbles followed in suit. Wearing nothing but his boxers. "Fuckin' a, last night was amazing!" breathed Ricky who sat on a lawn chair. He looked at his legs. Welts, welts and more welts. "Even the whip was amazing."

Ricky turned his radio on and on blared a song. The chorus talked about a hot, wet, tight, bald pussy but if you listened to the rest, it was about a cat. Very misleading. Very inappropriate.


	2. Funch

Rumsfield stepped onto his porch and threw his sunglasses on. His wife stepped next to him and handed a folded up American flag. Ricky looked up from making out with his mistress Bubbles and saw the Rumsfields clipping their flag to the pole. "Good morning, Lieutenant!" greeted Ricky as Bubbles bit his neck. Ricky let out a gasp. "Mrs. Rumsfield."

"Hi, Ricky!" said the ever cheerful Mrs. Rumsfield. "C'mon. Let's go back to bed. Sex is in the air."

Rumsfield saluted the flag as it was automatically pulled up the pole. Bubbles glanced at the scene. "If they wanted to show the flag a shred of respect they'd use a flag pole and not a stripper pole."

"I think they are using a flag pole, mistress," said Ricky.

"Ursula Udders can pole dance on that pole like there is no tomorrow," said Bubbles. She shook her head of feathered blonde hair. "Who gave R permission to speak to me like Mistress Bubbles like she was wrong?"

Ricky bit his bottom lip and blushed. He slithered across her lap as she pulled his pants down, exposing his bare rump to the cool morning air. With a swipe of the hand, Ricky cried out. It stung but yet felt so good! He saw Mr. Rumsfield step back into a pile of Queenie's spooge.

"Oh! Mr. Rumsfield! Be careful! Queenie-"

He sailed back onto his back, his head smashing into the ground. Mrs. Rumsfield gasped and kneeled down to her husband's head. Mr. Rumsfield bent his head up so he was face to face with her crotch. "How about some funch honey?"

Mrs. Rumsfield blushed and giggled. She ran to the street. "Mr. Walter! Mr. Walter! Thank you! Thank you!"

Ricky shook his head of dirty blonde hair. "I love those dudes," he chuckled. "Not as much as I love these punishments, Mistress."

Another spank.

Another right on top of his red mark from his first.

Another spank.

Another.

Ray peeked out the window as Mrs. Rumsfield grabbed her husband's hand and led him inside so he could go downtown. He belched down his hot coffee which had rose into his throat. "What are you doing up?" asked Ray's wife, rubbing his back.

"Well, Mr. Rumsfield wants something called funch and apparently he has to go downtown for that," said Ray.

"So Rumsfield is going pearl diving? His wife is one lucky bitch," purred Ray's wife.

Ray peeked back out the window to see Walter running up to Ricky. Ricky's back was pressed to his house as Bubbles had fallen to her knees. "You stop dat!" he cried, shaking an angry fist.

Bubbles took Ricky out of her mouth. "Would you prefer it if I got my strap on and rammed Ricky's ass for the whole block to see?"

"I'd catch him and staple hiz ass shut!" screamed Walter.

Ray let the curtain fall. "I think we should move..." said Ray who scurried to the dining room. He had seen enough, specially of Ricky. "We got an angry German across the street and two perverts down it."

"That's not reason enough to move, is it?" asked his wife.

"Now we have these new next door neighbors," said Ray. "What is their name?"

"The Rays?"

"See! They stole my name!"

"Ray Ray said I was a white devil of sex," she said.

"They've been here a week and their yard is filled with penis shrubs and hair men with tits," said Ray.

"Don't go outside and clap at those men," said his wife. "They'll growl at you. Though, they might ask for you to join them. I think they are gay."

"This is Mayfield Place not California," sighed Ray. "There's sex perverts everywhere now!"

"Why don't you whistle in the dark more often?" asked his wife.

"What?"

"Go way down south in Dixie," she said sitting in a chair, spreading her legs, allowing her husband a peek at her pubic patch.


End file.
